So, someone reported Harbinger to FFN and AO3 as Copyright infringement.
FFN hasn’t done anything, but AO3 sent me an email:
Hi, Scheherezade06,
The AO3 Abuse committee has received a complaint regarding your work Harbinger, located at http://archiveofourown.org/works/2088456, alleging that the amount of copyrighted material from the Outlander series in your work exceeds the amount allowed by our Terms of Service.
Section IV.D. of our ToS states: “Epigraphs and short quotations, including quotations from song lyrics and poetry, are allowed. Content that is set within or draws on an existing work is allowed. Reproductions of entire copyrighted works — whether songs, poems, transcripts, or other material — are not allowed without the consent of the copyright owner”.
Your work contains too much of the source material for the quotations to be considered “short”. In this case, the offending material consists of both word-for-word reproduction and close paraphrasing. Accordingly, we ask that you edit out most or all of the copyrighted material in your work, or remove the work in its entirety from the Archive, by January 12. If you fail to edit or remove it by the given date, an Archive administrator will delete the work.
I’m pretty upset. I understand, but it’s still frustrating. And I’d personally felt that having this message at the beginning of my fic was sufficient:
If you've read the Outlander books (or at least the first one), this will have some familiar events and dialogue in it. I'm pulling direct quotes and trying to imitate Diana Gabaldon's style as best I can.
i just wanted to tell you that i love harbinger. i keep going back and re-reading it all the time. (i went to look for it today and i couldn't remember how to spell your username ahaha) :D
Thank you for sending the message!!
And, yeah, my name’s kinda a mouthful, isn’t it?
I’m still grieving and having a hard time relating to CS... I go poke my fics every now and then, but the most I’ve gotten down is a sentence or two.
I’m sorry I’m a mess.
But it means a lot to me that people still read my stuff. I’m grateful. Thank you for sending this message. Truly.
Author’s Note: Someone recently found my FFN account and read through every fic I've written, leaving a review on each chapter. It blew me away, and I found the strength to finish this chapter than I'd been sitting on for a while.
I have no idea when the next update will be. I'm still a mess after losing my mom in January. But here's something:
.
The following night was the Halloween Feast and the choosing of the Tri-Wizard champions. Emma barely made it through her classes in a daze. Sitting in the decorated hall, sandwiched between Mary Margaret and Ruby, Emma felt a little like she was suffocating. She had that itch between her shoulderblades, like something was going to happen. Good or bad? She had no way to know.
She felt a tiny sliver of relief when McGonagall took the podium to begin the ceremony. At least the suspense part was over.
The headmistress made a speech about honor and sportsmanship or something. Emma wasn't really paying attention. She could feel eyes on her, and she knew she shouldn't turn around, but she couldn't help it. She found him easily-too easily-sitting among the Slytherins that were his former classmates. Neal was ignoring the Hogwarts students, the headmistress, and even his own Durmstrang classmates. He was staring at Emma.
Their eyes met and Emma's chest felt tight. His face was older, harder, like the intervening years had been unpleasant, but his eyes were the same warm shade of brown she'd fallen in love with just a few short years ago. He smiled, a brief, crooked thing, and Emma's heart skipped a beat. How could he affect her so strongly after what he'd done?
Emma guessed it was true what they said about first loves.
Mary Margaret shook her shoulder, and Emma reluctantly tore her gaze from Neal. She turned to her roommate and saw the brunette looking at her with clear concern.
"Are you okay?" Mary Margaret whispered.
Emma couldn't find her voice.
"The Goblet of Fire!" the headmistress exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention. Professor French brought the chalice forward. "The Goblet will now choose the Champions who will compete in this year's Tri-Wizard Tournament."
French set the Goblet down on a little table near the podium and took a step back. As everyone watched, the fire in the goblet billowed higher, and something small shot up into the air. Professor McGonagall caught the tiny projectile and unfolded it. the edges of the scrap of paper were singed.
"The Beauxbatons Champion is," the Hogwarts headmistress proclaimed, pausing for dramatic effect, "Tamara Gregory!"
The assembled Beauxbatons students cheered, and the named girl, a beautiful seventh-year student, smiled brightly and accepted a hug from another student before making her way to the stage.
Directrice Cora Descours gave Tamara a slight smile of approval and patted her shoulder.
The room fell silent again as the flames from the goblet rose and danced. A second slip of paper shot into the air. It headed straight for the Durmstrang headmaster, who caught it and handed it to Professor McGonagall with a nod of his head.
Emma felt that itch between her shoulders again.
McGonagall unfurled the scrap of paper and read the name aloud, once more giving a dramatic pause.
"The Durmstrang Champion is… Neal Cassidy!"
The cheer sounded like buzzing insects to Emma. Her stomach twisted painfully. Someone clapped her on the shoulder, and Emma startled, turning to see young Henry Nealson, reaching up (not as far as he would have last year) to console her.
"Maybe he'll get eaten by a dragon or something," the young chaser said brightly.
Emma's eyebrows shot up her forehead. When Emma found out who'd told Henry about her relationship with Neal, she was going to give them a piece of her mind.
"Yeah," Emma mumbled in response.
David, Mary Margaret, and Ruby each gave Emma a supportive bump, but then it was time to see who the Hogwarts champion would be.
The little slip flew up into the air, and the headmistress read the name with obvious pride.
"And the Hogwarts champion is… Emma Swan!"
The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers. Emma blinked, still a little stunned.
"You know what this means, right?" Ruby whispered into her ear. "You're going to the Yule Ball… with Jefferson."
"Ruby!" Mary Margaret chastised. "Now is not the time."
Emma's roommate's helped Emma to her feet, and she slowly made her way up to the platform. The Beaxbatons champion gave her a ghost of a smile, then she met Neal's eyes.
"Hey," Neal said, looking sheepish.
"Don't—" she started, her hackles rising, but a flash of light made her turn.
Another slip of paper flew up from the Goblet of Fire. Professor McGonagall caught it with a puzzled expression and made a disapproving little cluck when she opened the hastily folded ballot.
"Killian Jones," she read, her voice carrying over the hushed room.
"Killian?" Neal said quietly next to Emma, he sounded unhappy and… worried?
Madam Hooch spoke up from her place on at the professor's table.
"That doesn't make any sense," she said. "Killian Jones isn't—"
"What is going on?" demanded Cora Descours in an accented voice. "It is unfair for Hogwarts to have two champions when we only have one!"
"Whatever the cup says is final, Cora," the headmaster from Durmstrang, George Konig, said immediately.
"But Killian Jones isn't here," Madam Hooch went on. "Seventh year isn't required at Hogwarts."
"He must be on campus," Konig said, "or the Goblet could not have chosen him."
A moment of hushed chatter filled the hall.
"Sonorus Castellum," McGonnogall said. The spell amplified her voice, and Emma imagined it would carry through the whole castle. "Killian Jones, report to the great hall at once."
"I'm already here, Professor," Killian drawled from somewhere off to Emma's right.
Every head in the room snapped that direction to find the boy in question leaning against the wall beside the platform. He was wearing trainers, blue jeans, and an old, black tee-shirt. Emma wasn't actually surprised that he was in the Great Hall. How could he miss the ceremony? She was certain that he'd snuck forward while under his invisibility cloak and uncovered himself for dramatic effect. Her already tight stomach did another little flip at the sight of him.
"Mr. Jones, what is the meaning of this?" McGonagall said in a surprisingly calm voice. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?"
"I did not, Professor," Killian said, bowing his head.
"Clearly he is lying," Directrice Cora Descours said. "You said he isn't even a student!"
"He is a student," McGonagall said, turning an icy stare on Descours. "But he has been truant from his classes as of late."
She turned back to Killian.
"Isn't that right, Mr. Jones?" she asked him in an iron voice that brooked no disagreement.
"Aye," he said contritely.
"There cannot be four champions in the Tri-Wizard Tournament!" Cora complained.
"The Goblet's choices are final," George Konig snapped, making Directrice Descours seeth. "There is not precedent against more than three champions."
"You sound as though you want Hogwarts to have an unfair advantage," Descours challenged, narrowing her eyes at Konig.
"It hardly matters," Konig sneered back, but Emma stopped listening.
Her internal lie detector was registering. Neither Descours nor Konig were being honest, and Emma suspected it wasn't just because of anger. Something was going on, and they were both part of it. As the two headmasters continued to argue, Emma kept her eyes on Killian. When he felt her gaze, he turned to her and gave her a tiny nod. She knew it meant he was suspicious too. Good.
After another few minutes of bickering, Killian was ushered onto the stage where he stood next to Emma. Neal stood on her other side, and she could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to look at him again. She didn't want to believe he was part of it, too, but maybe he was.
She'd only known him for a few months, really. It hurt to even think about it.
And Killian.
Emma knew he'd been drawn into this fiasco because of her. That meant Professor French was involved, too. He'd overheard Emma tell Mary Margaret about him being on campus. That had to be the link.
But what did it mean? The whole Tri-Wizard Tournament couldn't be orchestrated just for Riddle to get to Killian, could it?
Well, if it was, they'd just have to turn it back on him.
As many of you know, I've been spending a lot of time on my other Tumblr account, doing the RP thing and hiding from the world. What you might not have known is why:
My mom was dying.
I say was, past tense, because she passed away very early Monday morning. Now I'm doing all the stuff that has to be done after...
So, I'm probably still not going to be around much. Hell, my queue is probably going to run out and this blog with sit completely inactive... Maybe... I don't know. I'm drawing some comfort from the other blog right now, so I tend to hang out over there...
Dunno when I'll be back at capacity and writing fiction again.
It's really hard to find any inspiration right now.... That's why I had to back out of the CSSS...
But I am still here and I get notifications when you guys send me messages. I'm just...
Emma ran until her lungs burned. She sprinted up staircases and down corridors. She tried to stop the choked sobs that threatened to break free from her aching chest, but they came anyway. She forced them into gasps for air as she streamed through the halls, causing more than one portrait character to call out after her for breaking the rule about running indoors.
When her legs finally gave out, Emma collapsed into a heap. The hall around her was dark, meaning the sun must have set. Emma had no idea what floor she was on or even what wing of the castle. She curled up into a tight ball and tried to get her breathing back under control. She was still shaking when she heard a soft scuff from across the hall. Lifting her head, Emma saw no one in the darkened hall. That made the identity easy.
“What do you want, Jones?” Emma said, her voice coming out as a choked whisper. She ended the query with an involuntary sniffle.
She heard a sigh and muffled rustling, and then the boy appeared. He flipped the invisible fabric over his shoulder.
“Mischief managed,” he whispered to his map before tucking it into his back pocket. He didn’t say anything else. He just crossed the short distance to her and dropped silently to the floor beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, tugging her toward him. She resisted at first, but her pain and exhaustion overcame her pride, and she let herself melt into his embrace. Soon, her breathing and heartbeat matched his, and the ache in her heart felt farther away.
Killian stroked her hair and drew idle patterns on her back with his fingertips. Emma’s cheek was pressed to his chest just over his heart. They stayed like that for some indefinite length of time, long enough for Emma to startle when Killian finally spoke.
“You should go to the banquet, love,” he said softly, his voice the barest whisper.
Emma sniffled again.
“I’ll be in the library, after,” Killian murmured, “if you want, I’ll… I’ll be in the library.”
Emma nodded against his chest, more an acknowledgement that she’d heard him than a promise. Then Killian was rising to his feet, pulling Emma along as if she weighed no more than a mug of butterbeer.
She hazarded a look at him and found him staring at her intently. She looked away quickly. He leaned in, but stopped when she flinched. He aborted what she assumed was going to be a kiss and instead brushed his fingertips along her cheekbone. He let go of her after that, stepping back and disappearing beneath his cloak.
“Wait,” Emma said, her voice almost frantic.
Killian’s head reappeared, his eyebrows high on his forehead.
“Which way to the great hall?” she said. “I got turned around.”
His eyebrows lifted a little higher.
“Straight up, more or less,” he said. The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “You’re down near the kitchens.”
Near the kitchens. And the Hufflepuff dormitory.
She wasn’t going to make too much of that. She’d gotten lost, that was all. Coincidence.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“Any time,” he replied, disappearing again.
.
When Emma arrived at the great hall, dinner was already underway. She slunk inside as stealthily as she could, grateful that the Gryffindor table was located along one of the walls and not in the middle, like Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.
Mary Margaret greeted Emma much the same way Killian had; she silently threw her arm around her roommate, knowing that words weren’t terribly helpful at times like these.
“Hey,” Mary Margaret said, giving Emma a weak smile.
“Hey,” Emma echoed, her throat still a little raw from her frantic running and crying.
Emma filled her plate, but mostly pushed food around it. Her stomach was still churning. Her tablemates chatted innocuously around her, the entire quidditch team forming a living wall of interference. All the conversation around her consisted of “isn’t this chicken great?” and debating the merits of pumpkin juice over butterbeer. Not a single word was said about the visiting students.
“Attention,” Professor McGonagall said suddenly, tapping her wand on the podium. Apparently, most students hadn’t noticed she’d risen, distracted by the feast and the new guests.
The room slowly came to order.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the Hogwarts headmistress began, “it is my honor and privilege to welcome our esteemed guests from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute. As our welcome dinner comes to a close, it seems to be time for, as they say, the ‘main event.’”
The professor paused for a moment. She gestured to the side of the room, and Professor French came forward holding a large golden goblet. Professor McGonagall tapped the goblet with her wand and brilliant green flames leapt up out of the bowl of the cup.
“The Goblet of Fire,” the headmistress said, and French held it up for all to see, “will sit on a pedestal outside the great hall until this time tomorrow night, at which point we will discover who will be the champions for the Tri-Wizard tournament. Because of the dangerous nature of the challenges, only students above the age of fifteen will be able to cast their name into the cup.”
A murmur crossed the room. It wasn’t a new rule, but with the schedule for when the tournament was held, it meant that some students would never have an opportunity to put their names into the cup.
Professor French carried the goblet down the center of the room. At the other end, the doors opened to let him through, and he set the goblet on a pedestal that hadn’t been there when Emma came into the great hall.
Professor McGonagall had sat back down while the goblet was paraded across the room.
“Ready?” David whispered to his tablemates, pulling out the slip of paper he’d written his name on during their meeting. A murmur of excited assent crossed the table, and then David stood up, followed quickly by the other Gryffindors who’d been at the meeting. Emma went with them, flanked by her roommates. Their group was the first one out the door, and David was the first student to cast his name into the goblet. Emma and the rest of the Gryffindors followed suit, and soon students from the other tables were getting up as well, bustling along, finding some scrap of paper or parchment on which to scribble their names.
Each student who added their name received a cheer and a pat on the back by their house mates and often students from the other tables as well.
Emma used the excitement as a cover to sneak away, not wanting to see who from the other schools came forward to enter the tournament.
She wandered a little, not wanting to go back to the dorm, and eventually found her feet leading her toward the library. She told herself she just wanted the distraction. Killian had found something, afterall. Hunting Riddle would be a good way to get her mind off of… other things. She certainly wasn’t going to the library for strong arms and warm embraces and—
Nope.
Just for Riddle.
Emma took a steadying breath before she opened the door to the library.
“Jones?” Emma whispered into the seemingly empty space.
“Swan!” came the excited-but-hushed reply.
Killian’s head appeared from behind one of the shelves, and his whole countenance brightened as if she were the sun and he some flower searching for light.
“You found something?” Emma asked, shifting her weight as she closed the library door behind her. She made her voice as casual as she could.
“I… Yes,” Killian said, his face falling at her tone.
“What did you find?” she asked, taking a step forward.
Killian stepped out from behind the shelf, and his whole bearing changed. He was suddenly all business: collected, cool.
“Ah, well,” Killian began, his back perfectly straight. “Ours was not the first Muggle Lit class to be held at Hogwarts.”
Emma cocked an eyebrow.
“We already knew that,” she said with a quick head shake, “McGonagall told us the reason she was willing to sponsor it was because she’d taken it when she was a student.”
“But do you know who was in the class with her?” Killian asked with a slight quirk of his lips.
“I’m gonna guess Riddle?” Emma said, feeling the tug to go along with Killian’s casual playfulness.
“Beautiful and clever,” Killian teased, “right, you are. Our dear friend Riddle apparently had a fondness for fairy tales, too.”
Killian opened an old ledger to show Emma a notation from an attendance log. Not only was Riddle’s real name written out on the page, he’d been marked present for every single session of class, with a notation from the instructor that he often came early and stayed late.
Emma took the book from Killian, registering the warmth of his fingers on hers as he withdrew his hands. She dismissed the casual touch and focused on the ledger.
Emma couldn’t help but feel like the riddle of Riddle was composed of so many pieces, she couldn’t see them all yet.
“There’s got to be a connection,” she muttered, her brow furrowing.
“It seems that way, doesn’t it?” Killian murmured, moving to stand just behind Emma, so he could examine the ledger over her shoulder. “I can’t seem to fathom it.”
His breath tickled her neck, and she felt herself swaying toward him. Her back brushed his chest. He slipped one of his arms around her waist and tugged her toward him. She loosened her hold on the book as she closed her eyes and let the warmth of his chest seep through the back of her robe. She let out a little groan and tilted her head to the side, baring her neck to Killian. His breath puffed out on her skin three times before she shivered and let out a little whimper of anticipation. Emma’s breath caught when his lips brushed her skin.
Emma dropped the ledger when Killian began kissing down the side of Emma’s neck. The book fell to the floor with a muffled thump.
Feeling giddy, Emma spun around, snaking her arms up to encircle Killian’s neck. She kissed him hard, wanting the rush of sensation to block out everything else in the world for a little while. Killian seemed to sense her distress, and he indulged her, accepting her kisses and letting her take the lead. They made out for several minutes before Emma started tugging on Killian’s shirt.
He groaned in response before trying to disengage from her advances.
“Emma,” he murmured, his voice thick.
Emma ignored his protests and continued to try to move along baselines.
“Swan,” Killian said in a stronger voice, capturing her hands in his.
She made a frustrated noise in response.
“You don’t want to do this right now,” he said as if the words were physically painful.
“I really do,” Emma rasped against his mouth, tugging his lip between her teeth.
A delicious groan escaped him, and he stopped protesting for a moment, lost in the kiss. All too soon, he was pulling back again, stilling Emma’s hands and dodging her attempts at recapturing his lips.
“Emma,” he whispered, his voice urgent and breathless, “we should stop.”
“Why?” she pouted.
“You know why,” he said patiently, giving her a level look.
She feigned ignorance and stared back at him expectantly.
He sighed.
“Not today, Emma,” he murmured. “Merlin known it’s painful to deny you, but today is the wrong day to do… this.”
Emma made a frustrated noise.
Killian pulled her back into his arms, but she resisted, slapping his chest half-heartedly. He let her struggle for a moment, holding her loosely, then he tucked her head against his shirt. She slid her arms around him and let out a shaky sigh.
He was right, damn him. ‘I saw my ex-boyfriend across the courtyard and I freaked out and you smell nice’ is not an acceptable reason to sleep with somebody.
“So,” she began, her voice wavering and making the word two syllables instead of one. she pulled back to look at him, “now what?”
He cupped her cheek in his hand and bent his head down to hers, recapturing her lips. The kiss was deep and passionate, but somehow warm and centering instead of wild. She’d never thought a kiss could be like that. Emma lost herself in it, but she didn’t feel lost. She felt found, which should have scared the pants off of her.
The kiss seemed to go on and on, with nothing else in the world moving except their mouths. His hand was frozen on her cheek, his other arm around her waist. Both of her arms stayed locked around him. When they finally drew back for air, he leaned his forehead against hers and panted.
“Now,” he said, his voice thick, “I think you should go on to bed, before something wicked happens.”
He’d just turned her down and was now warning her that he wanted her?
Killian Jones was such a ball of confusion.
But she did feel better than she had before she’d entered the library.
“Okay,” she said softly. She even managed a small smile. He smiled right back, stroking her cheek with his thumb before stepping back, putting some space between them, but continuing to hold her. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, love,” he said, and he winked.
Emma actually laughed at that, and she let go of him. She left the library feeling lighter.
Sorry for the lack of... well, anything other than queue lately...
It's a super busy stressful time of year, and I've been venting my stress into an RP blog (and having a great time doing it).
So, I'm sorry I'm not around, and I'm sorry that I'm losing followers at an alarming rate, but I gotta preserve my sanity this month, and the RP blog is helping.
And, if you're a Dresden Files fan, lemme know and I'll tell you who I'm RPing. =)
